


kagehina one shots

by hinatashugs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:00:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23418631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hinatashugs/pseuds/hinatashugs
Summary: a collection of one shots written about two volleyball dorks.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. Royal Aspirations

“Just watch, one day I’ll be King”

Those words had been said by Tobio Kageyama so many times in his lifetime, with such guarantee and assurance, that you might actually be enticed by his promise. You might actually believe it to be true. Whenever he spoke of that promise, he did so with deep, sparkling eyes, with an almost knowing smirk and a confident tone. If one wasn’t aware of his status, so low down in the general hierarchy of his village – they might even be persuaded to believe him.

As much as everyone around him wanted to have faith in the boy, as he grew into a teenager with this whimsical dream that never stopped, never faltered, never faded, they all knew it was little more than a dream. He may work towards being close to the castle, gaining such limited prestige as a chef or a guard, but he was never destined to rule; he was born in a position that would never allow him to be in a position such as King.

Each day passed by, each year he grew up just a little more, and he continued to obsess over the thought of being King. He wanted to be in charge. He wanted to make rules, make important decisions that would impact the lives of the many, not the few. He wanted power. He would make that happen.

Seventeen. Still as infatuated with the concept of being King, not knowing how to truly make it happen but knowing that he would, someday. He didn’t want this life that had been carefully laid out before him. He didn’t want to spend his days away in that sweet-smelling bakery that he had always known, he didn’t want to rot away, so far from where his true potential truly lay. He was being driven insane by the mundane routine of the same things happening again and again, day after day, repeating the same conversations and actions without change.

Until, one day, as the sun shone brightly through the store windows, the same as it always did; a flash of deep red fluttered past the window before storming through the front door in a blizzard of red and orange. A figure dressed in a dark velvet robe, a hood covering a mess of fiery orange hair, ducking into the store and seeking shelter behind a shelf of baked goods.

Tobio opened his mouth to tell the stranger they weren’t open yet, so early in the morning, but stopped when he fully took in the boy. Short, rosy cheeked and wide-eyed, he looked over his shoulder, towards the window of the shop, just as some of the royal guards walked past looking hurriedly around. It slowly dawned on Tobio who was in his company.

As the guards disappeared from sight, the two boys both untensed simultaneously. Tobio hadn’t fully noticed how much his muscles had tensed, but he had subconsciously realised that if he had been found or it had even been considered that he helped hide the Prince from his royal guard, that he would be mercilessly executed. As for the Prince, Tobio had no idea as to why he was hiding from his guards.

“So,” the Prince asked from his place on the floor, his knees tucked against his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs, “What’s the best thing you sell?”

Taken aback, Tobio stood speechless for a moment, before glancing around the store and deciding to choose the first thing he saw, “I’m quite fond of our cinnamon rolls” 

That was a lie. Tobio hated cinnamon rolls, he had never had much of a sweet tooth, but he guessed some people liked them considering they went out of stock often, “Have any I can buy?” 

Tobio nodded, retreating into the back of the shop for a moment to collect a fresh bag, returning with it in hand. Surprisingly, the Prince looked, well, normal. Despite his bright orange hair, which was a known trait of the royal family, he didn’t stick out in any distinguishable way, except for maybe the fact he appeared to be a head height shorter than Tobio. 

The Prince smiled, “Thanks” 

Okay, maybe his smile was something that made him stand out.

“Is everything alright…” Tobio trailed off, not knowing how he was supposed to address the royalty that was standing so nonchalantly in front of him, “…your majesty?”

To Tobio’s surprise, the Prince let out a small laugh at that, “You can call me Shoyo, or Hinata” he glanced over his shoulder again, “I’m fine, but my parents wanted me to go into the nearby towns to learn the area, but my guard was being really strict”

Shoyo didn’t even talk how Tobio expected him to. He spoke calmly, easily matching the speech patterns Tobio knew of the people in the village. Were it not for his hair and velvet robe, he could be mistaken for townsfolk. Even his expression was so different to how Tobio thought it would be. He expected the royals to turn their nose up against the people and places in the villages – he knew that he wanted to be able to do that. Yet, before him stood a Prince, Prince Hinata Shoyo, who seemed so relaxed and calm in the presence of a stranger, in the presence of a commoner, no less.

If Tobio thought he knew how royalty was supposed to be, he was wrong in more ways than he knew.

“Why do you need to know the area?” Tobio’s eyes widened the moment the words passed through his lips. It sounded too harsh, too blunt to be spoken to a Prince; too casual as if they were acquainted.  
It appeared Shoyo didn’t mind, “They want me to be ready for when I’m King”

Tobio froze. King. The word sent a shiver down his spine. It made everything in him on edge. It was all he had ever wanted. It was exactly what Shoyo was destined to get. But maybe… It wasn’t unattainable. If Shoyo became King… If he was the heir to the throne…

Getting close to him may have its advantages.

“I could show you around” Tobio didn’t want to appear forward. He didn’t want to be too pushy. He wanted to gain the Prince’s approval as successfully as possible, with as little problems as he could.

Shoyo’s eyes lit up, “Really?”

“Yeah” Tobio nodded, “I know some places in this area that are good for food, some people that I could introduce you to – they could be good connections for you”

“You’d really help me?” he asked, a dazzling smile on his face.

Tobio didn’t want to help him. In general, Tobio preferred to be on his own, to do his own thing; but if he helped Shoyo he could get something out of it that was worth stepping out of his comfort zone for. He realised it was cruel, to befriend the Prince only to get something out of it. He knew it was harsh and sly and foul and it was low of him to even consider doing such a thing. 

But if it brought him close enough to attain the title of King… He would be willing to do almost anything.

That conversation felt so long ago. It felt like it had been a lifetime ago that Shoyo had stumbled into the bakery, out of pure luck into the space Tobio knew so well; so long since the two had found their destiny. So long since Tobio had started a web. A spiral of creating memories, gaining trust and forging a place for himself in the heart of the royal family’s kindest, most trusting and kind member. 

It brought them to where they stood, months down the line in the cobbled streets that Tobio had taught Shoyo to walk along, smiling brightly in the late afternoon light.

“They’re probably still looking for me” Shoyo said quietly, standing on his toes to peek over Tobio’s shoulder at the crowded street beyond. His calm expression morphed in a moment, and Tobio knew that his royal guard was there once more, searching for Shoyo to return him to the castle – where Tobio now knew he would await a scolding about how dangerous it was for him to be alone.

But, Shoyo had admitted to Tobio, he didn’t feel as though it was dangerous when he wasn’t alone. He had done on days he had escaped the guard before, going through the market alone – but he had confessed to the other that he felt safe with him. Shoyo felt as though Tobio could keep him out of harms way, since he knew the area and the people so well.

Shoyo tried to make himself look as small as possible, using Tobio as his defence he clutched onto the fabric of the boys’ shirt, pressing his forehead into his chest to hide himself as much as possible.  
Tobio wasn’t too surprised that Shoyo was using him for cover, but he was surprised to feel Shoyo’s hands trembling. Wrapping an arm around the other boy, Tobio shielded Shoyo from the view of the guards until they were out of sight completely.

“What’s wrong?” Tobio asked, his hand on Shoyo’s shoulder as the other dropped his hands to his sides, his erratic breathing slowly regulating. When he received no reply, he squeezed Shoyo’s shoulder, his voice laced with concern that Tobio would never admit to feeling, “What happened?”

“Nothing” Shoyo shrugged off Tobio’s hand, smiling that same, bright smile he always did – the same one that Tobio slowly grew to adore, “Everything’s fine”

Tobio looked at the other with a knowing gaze, “Shoyo…”

Hinata Shoyo had never been good with keeping secrets. It was just something that he had never been able to do. From friends or family, he was awful at it. Let alone from someone who had grown to know him as well as Tobio did. He sighed, for, he knew telling Tobio wouldn’t change a thing, so what was the point in hiding it from him.

“My parents think the reason I keep running off from my guard is to see someone” Shoyo whispered, his hands clutched at his sides and his eyes on the ground, “They either want me to break off contact with them, or they say they will for me – or they want me to bring them to the castle”

“For what?”

“To be judged by my family, I guess” Shoyo murmured, finally looking up and meeting Tobio’s eyes with a tearful gaze, “I don’t want them to ruin you”

Tobio was at a loss for words. How Shoyo’s family would ruin him, was something he couldn’t even imagine. The only thing that could possibly ruin him was if his family’s bakery was destroyed, or if he was executed. He was unable to even think that the royal family could ruin him just by meeting him. He kept eye contact with Shoyo, not looking away for a moment, “How?”

“They’d scrutinise everything about you, Tobio” Shoyo’s voice was shaking, matching the tears swimming in his eyes, “I can’t find fault in you, but they would”

“Everyone can find fault in everyone, Shoyo” Tobio put an arm over the boys’ shoulders, “They wouldn’t be able to ruin me, how delicate do you think I am?”

“You got a bruise from a cinnamon bun I threw at your arm” Shoyo raised his eyebrows, leaning his head against Tobio’s shoulder for a moment before pulling away and standing with his hands planted on his hips, “Anyway, that’s beside the point – you promised me you’d show me the new recipe your Mother has been trial testing for the past few days”

“Don’t you think I should have given her a warning before she meets a member of the royal family?” Tobio asked, leading the way towards the bakery.

Shoyo simply grinned, “I hope she likes surprises”

As the months bled by, Summer fading into a brisk Autumn and a snowy Winter – everything began to fall apart.

Everything was going to plan, yes, but he was slowly beginning to feel regret twisting in the depths of his stomach. His chest felt heavy with guilt, weighing down on him each time Shoyo smiled that alluring smile, each time he shone so brightly, so purely and openly, trusting Tobio with everything in him; while Tobio was using him.

Whenever they saw one another, which became a rarer occasion as royal balls became a more frequent occurrence in these Winter months, while Tobio heard that voice in the back of his mind reminding him of why he decided to explore this friendship with the Prince in the first place – he began to notice something in Shoyo. 

In public, the Prince was a wonderous enigma. When in the presence of royalty, whenever Tobio spotted him in a horse-drawn carriage, off to some magical ball to dance the night away in the presence of Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses; he was quiet. He smiled, he shone in the same way Tobio realised he always did… But he was quiet.

Yet, in the privacy of the most hidden corners of the village, he laughed loudly, jumped around excitedly, dragged Tobio through market stalls, into cafés tucked away on the outskirts of the village. He seemed so wholly, unequivocally free, in comparison to the life he was meant to lead. 

Tobio began to notice that Shoyo was beautiful when he was happiest.

When it dawned on him that he thought such a thing, he was in a state of utter shock. He didn’t think things like that. He had never seen someone, ever before in his life, and thought them to be pretty. He didn’t see people like that. That was how he viewed ball gowns, castles and thrones. That was the way in which he viewed the idea of being a royal.

That wasn’t how he was supposed to view Shoyo. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this, because he wasn’t supposed to fall for all of Shoyo’s charms. He was using him, not falling for him.

But it became apparent that he was doing both, at the exact same time.

He had to confess. If Tobio were to continue living with this lie inside of him, he would surely go mad. He had to confess so that he could free himself of these shackles; so, he could tell Shoyo that he didn’t want to use him anymore. Tell him that the thought of continuing to use him as he had made him feel monstrous and cruel. He had to confess, so that he could tell Shoyo to never speak to him again.

“I know”

Tobio’s world stopped. His eyes were fixated on the back of the Prince, as he stood staring off into the distance, at the snow-painted world beneath them. He had poured his heart out to Shoyo, telling him everything about how he manipulated him in hopes of becoming King – and the Prince already knew.

Unable to even ask how he knew, Tobio watched, waited for him to speak. Thankfully, it only took the boy a few moments to collect his thoughts, as he reached his hand down into the snow and crushed a fistful of it in his hand, “Remember that day I first met you Mother?” Shoyo asked, hearing Tobio’s small hum in reply and continuing tentatively, “Well, while you were out of the room, she told me your aspirations to become King. She seemed… Worried that you were trying to use my position in the kingdom as leverage to gain some sort of prestige”

“You’ve known for that long?” Tobio’s voice was raised to a shout, and he closed the distance between them, grabbing Shoyo’s shoulder and spinning him around so that they were facing one another. Here, where they stood atop the hill, Tobio was at level with Shoyo. He could see his face so clearly, see the tears making his eyes gleam, his breath in the cold air. He felt as though he had never seen Shoyo so clearly before.

And he didn’t look angry. He didn’t look betrayed, as Tobio had anticipated, or enraged as Tobio had expected him to be. He looked deflated. And, somehow, this was so much worse. He wanted Shoyo to shout and scream, he wanted Shoyo to hit him and tell him that he was hurt by everything Tobio had done. But instead he looked over his shoulder, breathing in the cold air, looking down at the scenery below him.

“I’m not angry, Tobio” Shoyo reached up and lifted Tobio’s hand off his shoulder, holding onto it for a moment before pulling him up the hill a bit, turning him so that he was facing the town below.  
A frozen river ran down into the village, from the mountains, glistening in pale blue hues. Each thatched-roof house stood proudly in the pale sunlight, coated in white, surrounded by the little figures hurrying from building to building going about their everyday life. While Tobio glared down at the scene in discontent, wondering why Shoyo was trying to make him watch the laborious scene in front of him; Shoyo looked in awe.

His eyes were bright, tears having melted away, his expression much changed since the moments before. A small smile rested on his face. Not his normal, goofy, bright, wonderful smile that he so often adopted, but small, the corners of his lips upturned in upmost content. He looked as though he would be happy to stand there forever.

“I wouldn’t think you’d get it” Shoyo laughed, dropping to sit in the snow, pulling his knees up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs; just like he had that fateful day they met.

Tobio narrowed his eyes at Shoyo, “Get what?” 

“Looking down there, at everyone, I don’t feel like a Prince. I don’t feel like this important being that I’m made out to be. I’m not on a pedestal. I’m just here, existing. Feels as though I could fly” Shoyo smiled into his arms, “I can’t get rid of my status. I can’t get away from the fact I’ll be King someday. What I can do, is help you get to a place you want to be”

It slowly dawned on Tobio what Shoyo meant. One of them could have their dream. One of them could achieve what they had always wanted. Shoyo couldn’t possibly be okay with what Tobio had done, but he was willing to look past it so that Tobio could get that one, little step closer to his dream.

Tobio didn’t notice the movement from besides him until he felt a warm pressure beneath his chin, forcing him to look behind him slightly, where Shoyo had clambered a little up the hill for height. Once more, they were level, and once more Tobio saw Shoyo how he truly was. 

Shoyo leaned forwards, wrapping his arms around Tobio’s neck in a tight, but fleeting embrace. Reaching down and taking Tobio’s hand, placing something cold in it. A glistening ring, with a bright red gem.

“My parents expected me to ask for it once I was King” Shoyo smiled softly, “But I don’t care about being King just yet. I can gain the title whenever, but I thought it was right for me to give it to who I want to be the future King alongside me”

Tobio stared down at the ring, only breaking from his trance when Shoyo plucked it out of his hand and slipped it onto his ring finger, “Shoyo you-”

Shoyo laughed, “It’s not a marriage proposal, Tobio” he smiled, that annoyingly perfect smile that made him practically shine, “You’re not King yet, but you will be one day” the boy promised, “For now, anyways, I quite like the idea of you being a Prince.”


	2. what it means to be 'king'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'king'  
> A simple, yet corrupted word. A word which weighed down heavily on Kageyama since the first moment it had been used to degrade him, to downplay his skill and talent. To make a mockery of all of his hard work. A word he would do anything to destroy.

From the moment it was muttered malevolently by his classmates, he wanted the phrase demolished.

It was a name brought about by hatred and poison, jealousy and loathing. It was a name he wished would be a distant memory or a blurred nightmare. It was a name that he never wanted to hear again.   
“The King of the Court”

It sounded so prestigious, so pompous and egotistical. It sounded cynical and vain and everything that he wanted not to be. He knew his arrogancy shone through, the worst parts of him on show for the world to see, but he wished with everything in him that he was able to fix what he had done. From the moment the ball dropped, to the spiker that wasn’t there, he wanted to go back in time and change every little wrong thing he had done.

It dragged him down like a weight. Shackles grasped at his ankles, cold and unwavering, a constant reminder of what he had done. There was no escaping it. He had lost. Everything that he had worked so hard for, gone. With the toss of a ball, everything had come crashing down.

His attempts at reconciliation were futile, he had nowhere to go. Even with this new team, this mismatched family that consisted of people who didn’t appear to care about the past – he felt locked outside. He was trapped on the outskirts, so close to a team that was full of so many wonderful upperclassmen, full of such strength and power that it felt as though they could overcome any enemy that stood in their way.

But he wasn’t a part of this team. He was sure he could never truly be.

He would never be away from the phrase “King”. He would never be able to live without the reminder of the mistakes he had made. He would never stop being the King of the Court. Everyone knew it was a name of filth. Everyone knew that it was a brand, telling the world how he had failed and the terrible things he had done. 

Until, the name was muttered without the vehement hatred that he knew so well. It was said with determined admiration, looking at him with a watery gaze and a resolute expression. It wasn’t said with disgust or with hatred. It was said with something so unknown to Kageyama Tobio, that he would never forget the expression that was placed before him. 

Not until he faced the unnamed boy again.

But that didn’t change what the name meant. It didn’t change what Kageyama had done. It didn’t change the fact that he was, and always would be, the narcissistic king that he was known to be. There was no escape. No matter how much he apologised each time he made a mistake, how much he tried to be better than he was before, there was nothing he could do.

He was surrounded by unwavering power, with a light stood at his side that would never allow him to place a set to no one. But he was alone. Wholly and unequivocally, he knew that he was never going to be able to be part of this team.

“Then make the damn point”

He didn’t acknowledge the third-years’ crestfallen expression, only the irritation curling in the pit of his stomach. His mind didn’t turn to all the times he had been too harsh on his teammates, all the times he had mulled over the things he said late at night – only to the anger he felt at being matched with a team that wasn’t good enough for him. He was better than that. Better than them.

No.

He caught himself, these thoughts cultivating in his mind; and stopped. He remembered all the times he had been called the “King” and all the times he had despised it so strongly. He remembered all of the times he had pushed others to their limits and broken their spirits. He remembered that he was inferior to his team; because he thought those horrible thoughts.

Yet, he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop himself. After all that had happened at the training camp, after all the raw power he had seen, the unmatched skill and the sky-high goals. He felt as though he was losing his mind, surrounded by these people who cared so little compared to how much he cared.

“I know my tosses are good!”

His blood was boiling, his heart beating so loud in his ears that everything around him was muted by the noise. No coherent thoughts were appearing in this scattered mindset, only the want, the need, to win.

“So please, score more often!”

It had happened again. After all the times he had to bite his tongue, after he had gotten so much better… He made the mistake again.

A crack slithered across the ground, tearing the court apart, splitting it in two. It had happened again. He had pushed his team to the point of breaking. He had shattered everything he had tried to hard to achieve. Tears pricked the back of his eyes, his face morphed into one of pure horror. He was the King. He would never stop being the arrogant, controlling King of the Court.

A ravine fell beneath him, opening up the vast, echoing void below. He was alone. There was no one who could accept him, not when he was like this. He was all the disgusting things he had tried so hard not to be, and there was no way he could escape it.

Yet, a voice, fuzzy in the King’s disseminated mind, spoke of things that Kageyama knew not. 

A hand reached out across the chasm falling beneath him, matched with a promising smile and a drive to win. A drive to spike every ball set for him and never leave Kageyama alone. An annoying voice paired with words that Kageyama would never be able to get out of his mind. It was an unspoken promise – it was a new perspective that painted Kageyama in a light that he could have never even considered looking from.

It was the coronation of a new King. It was the moment that Kageyama realised that maybe, he wasn’t so far away from this team. Maybe, just maybe, he could be part of something as wonderful as this.


	3. "I'm here"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, when Hinata had said "I'm here" he meant it. As a promise. Then and now. Now and forever.

It started off as somewhat of a hypothesis, to begin with. Small puzzle pieces fitting together and forming a hazy picture in his head. No concrete evidence was placed behind his theories, but he was gradually beginning to see something he had never noticed before. Everything was falling into place, like a melody finally gaining its tune.

Truthfully, he felt as though he had known for a long time. Hinata Shoyo was never the brightest when it came to academics, and he was never the best at reading people; but there was an exception, just as there always was. With this exception, Hinata felt as though he finally knew how to read people – this one person that he understood so well.

Hinata had always been curious about others. It was just a fact of life. He wanted to get to know anything and everything he could about everything possible, and that was something which followed him throughout life. He wanted to know about different games and sports and people and everything that interested him. One of these things, one of these mysteries that Hinata always wondered about – was what got Kageyama Tobio into volleyball.

When he asked, Hinata was quick to notice the way in which Kageyama spoke of everything, every detail, every moment, in the past tense.

He spoke with pride, but resigned pain. He spoke with the demeanour of someone who was trying hard not to forget. Someone who was hurting. And, other things began to fit into place. How much passion he put towards the sport he was so enamoured with. The sport that evidently meant so much to him. 

Hinata, who had never been one to notice things, never one to recognise small details – began to see right through Kageyama.

He saw through the cracks in the carefully crafted mask that Kageyama had placed on. He saw, more than anything else, someone who was alone. Alone like he had been, feeling as though he had no one to rely on, alone in so many other ways that Hinata could never even begin to understand.

And those offers for extra practise became more than that. They were no longer just for him, no longer just for working towards the goal they were both striving towards. It was a reminder. It was a promise. It was an outstretched hand, telling him that he would never be alone. That when he said “I’m here” he meant it. That he was ready to be there, to spike every toss and receive every ball.  
No matter what.


	4. the end

All at once, it was over. There was nothing left. In one swift movement, one missed receive, they had lost. It shouldn’t have ended this way. They all knew they weren’t destined to end victorious. They both knew that they wouldn’t be partners forever.

While everyone around him stood in shock, Kageyama was the first to take it in. Ears deafened by the cheers of the opposing side, tears swimming in his vision, his heart pounding in his chest. Everything was over. His hands trembled, balled into fists at his side. He should have been better. If only he had been a stronger defender, a better setter, a better teammate. 

There was so much more he could do, that he didn’t.

Feeling a tug on his arm, he blinked away the tears and saw Hinata’s heartbroken expression looking up at him, nodding towards the team making their way into the line. Hinata looked exactly how Kageyama felt; destroyed. As if everything they had worked towards had been for nothing. In all honesty, Kageyama was too tired to do anything more than go home. He guessed the rest of the team felt the same. Everything was over. This was it.

Hinata pulled Kageyama towards the others, dropping his hands to his sides and staring down at the ground with tears swimming in his eyes.

Everything was over.

That was all that was in the heads of the whole team. They had lost, and there was nothing they could do to fix it. There was little talk as they walked back to the bus; only meek attempts at conversation and forced laughs echoing through the corridors. Even Hinata, with his unmatched optimism, was broken. 

As the bus sped out of the city, into uneven roads and past acres of farmland, the silence that fell over the bus felt somewhat serene. Even with the events that had crushed every fibre of their being, there was something comforting about sitting on that bus, after having given it their all. But that comfort was feeble, it was unable to mask the torment they felt inside after facing such a loss.

A small sigh passed through Hinata’s lips as he stared out the window, sat in the same seat he always had. But, this time, there was something bittersweet about it all; because this was the last time he would be here with his team. His first team. Where he learnt how to receive, where he got to learn what it meant to work together, not just with friends, but with a team. With a partner that knew him better than he could ever expect the rest of the team to. With the people who he could consider family.

Leaning against Kageyama’s shoulder, Hinata squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to think of a way that the team could have one last game together. One more time on the court as a team. One last win.

He couldn’t help but wonder; even if the team wasn’t whole, would they still stand a chance on the court?

Looking up at Kageyama, Hinata elbowed him in the side, bringing a small smile to his face when he saw that annoyed expression, he knew so well. That eyebrows raised, eyes narrowed, nose scrunched face that he knew better than he knew Kageyama’s smile – even if that smile was something he was unlikely to forget, if his nightmares carried on.

“You’re staying on the team next year, right?” Hinata asked quietly, a spark in his eyes that only returned in that moment; that had faded since the scoring of that last, fateful point. Hinata was unsure what he would do if the answer was no, not that he expected it to be. He wasn’t sure how he would feel if he knew that Kageyama was leaving him, for no reason at all.

Kageyama scoffed, his signature King smirk resting on his face, “Like I’d quit and let you get ahead of me”


	5. All the colours in the night sky - au

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata had grown up believing that everyone had a ‘problem’ that they had to go through, something that they lived with that brought them hardships and suffering that they had to work through. He had grown up believing that just because his problem was something more obvious, doesn’t mean it’s worse than everyone else’s – because he doesn’t have a bad life. But when an offhanded comment is made, and Hinata reveals something he had never told another person before, a surprising event follows which leaves Karasuno’s no. 9 and 10 closer than ever before.
> 
> In which, Hinata learns to love another colour.

Dim. The world is dim. Washed in monochrome, black and white and muted grey. There is little ‘light’, when the sky cannot be painted with a golden hue; when the nights are much too dark, and the days aren’t much brighter. Colour takes the form of memories, of smiles and laughter and spikes and matches. Hinata imagines each of his favourite things are connected to certain colours.

Karasuno is bright. It’s yellow and orange, it’s how he imagines the sun rises over the sea on the perfect day, so ethereal, bright and unwavering and new. His sister is pink and silver, how she describes the glitter on her dolls dresses and the hues of her favourite practise volleyball, the one she uses as she aims to be ‘way better’ than him at playing, one day. Everything has a colour, its’ meaning and purpose for assigning those colours to each thing done with immense thought and imagination.

Hinata had grown to not resent his problem. He reminds himself that everyone struggles because of something, and his ‘thing’ is just something more obvious than most. He reminds himself that it doesn’t stop him from playing, or teaching his sister how to spike a ball, or spending time with his friends. He reminds himself that he’s lucky.  
  
He hadn’t meant to mention it to Kageyama, truly. It wasn’t some big secret, but it wasn’t something that he liked to broadcast to the entire world, either. He honestly wondered if Kageyama even understood, at first, and he had forgotten the conversation had even happened; when Kageyama asked him if he wanted to go out one Saturday evening to train.

It wasn’t an unusual question, as both often had trouble sleeping due to whatever reason that they never shared with the other, and were both usually open for practise whatever time, day or night – so Hinata didn’t question it too far as he pulled a hoodie over his head and left his house, walking into the brisk night with a volleyball held between his arm and hip.

“Hurry up, Hinata boke” Kageyama’s greeting was shouted to Hinata, who broke into a light jog up the hill to where the other was waiting.

When he arrived at the peak of the hill, Hinata saw Kageyama looking wistfully into the distance, at the setting sun. For once, Kageyama looked at ease, less of the general anger and anguish that usually plagued his features, more of the calm and serenity that he sometimes held when setting; more of the things Hinata liked to see on his setter’s face. When he heard Hinata had arrived at the flat of grass they had adopted as their training grounds outside school, Kageyama nodded slightly, silently calling Hinata over.

“My sister described it to me before, she said it was one of the most amazing things…” Hinata started, absently twirling the volleyball in his hands as he looked out across the land stretching out before them. Lost in his thoughts as he looked out, Hinata didn’t bother to glance to the side as Kageyama lifted something out of his bag, only breaking from his trance when he felt something drop onto the bridge of his nose.

Dropping the volleyball in surprise, leaving it to start rolling down the hill, Hinata blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the film that had been placed before them.

Everything was much brighter, as if a switch had been pulled and everything had been drowned in orange light, set by the setting sun. The sky above melted from a pale blue into a faint yellow, from yellow to gold to a beautiful shade of orange. It coated the jewelled grass below, making everything a little more crimson and gold than it would normally be.

Everything was so bright and warm and colourful.

Colour.

Hinata choked back a sob, looking down the hill at Kageyama who had gone to collect the volleyball that Hinata had abandoned in his surprise. Kageyama, too, was painted in gold, his jet-black hair shining with orange, and Hinata wondered if there could be a more wonderful sight than this. He sprinted down the slope and tackled the setter in a tight embrace, wrapping his arms around the others’ torso and letting out a strangled cry, trying his hardest to not break down in tears where they lay.

Kageyama tentatively put an arm around Hinata’s shoulders as the smaller curled up slightly, resting his forehead against Kageyama’s chest and regulating his breathing before looking up, still locking the setter in a tight hug. Surprisingly, Kageyama’s eyes glistened, and Hinata added to his list of colour.

Kageyama is blue. Like the brightness in his eyes and the top of the sky on one of the best nights of Hinata’s life. He’s blue like so many things Hinata wished to see for what would truly be the first time, like the ocean and the midday sky on a clear day; he’s blue and Hinata wonders if there is anything so wonderful. He wonders if another colour compares to Kageyama, his first setter, the one who pushed him to his limits and fought with him as well as alongside him. He wonders if he will ever be able to see the colour blue, without seeing Kageyama Tobio, too – the one who showed him colour.


	6. "He was a partner"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, Hinata and Kageyama had an argument wherein they had both said things that they didn’t mean, and it was enough to destroy the trust and faith that they had once held in one another – because they had seen one another’s vulnerabilities and used it to gain leverage in an argument that left them broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a mess i'm sorry

After everything that had happened, it felt as though they were no older than fifteen once more. They had spoken scathing words without a second thought, said things they didn’t mean and ripped into the other where they knew it hurt the most. As if they didn’t know the other better than anyone else on the team; as if they didn’t know one another enough to know that they had gone too far.

As if they didn’t know words could hurt more than a real fight.

In all honesty, they both would have been better off had they spoken with their fists rather than their words. At least, that way, they might not have ended up where they were. Two months into their last year at Karasuno, and Hinata Shoyo missed a week of practise for the very first time. According to the other first years, he was feeling ill – but Kageyama knew otherwise.

He hadn’t been to school since the argument, probably the biggest one they’d ever had; the argument where Hinata had made claims he didn’t believe and Kageyama had targeted the areas he knew Hinata was mentally at his weakest and lied to try and hurt the other boy.

Kageyama had been tasked with tidying up after practise the Friday that made it a whole week since he had last seen Hinata, leaving him a job they usually did together. The only ones left in the gym at that hour were him, Yachi and Yamaguchi; the other two looking over some statistics from their last practise match.

Their quiet mutter of conversation was the only thing keeping Kageyama tethered to the moment, not mentally reliving the fight he had with Hinata the week before.

One time, Hinata had called Kageyama’s tendency to not be able to move past bad experiences his ‘fatal flaw’, something he had learnt from Yachi was something that Greek theatre characters had. In that moment, Kageyama wondered if it was really true.

After Yamaguchi had excused himself to the changing rooms, Kageyama felt tension roll over him, the silence not managing to distract him from his thoughts – and his worries that what Hinata had said was right, about his fatal flaw and about the things Hinata had said in the heat of the argument, all bubbling to the forefront of Kageyama’s mind.

Though he knew that some of the things he said were said solely to wound Hinata, to say something that would get him to shut up, he found it hard to believe that Hinata would do the same thing in return. He wondered if the words Hinata had spoken were things he meant, not things he thought would get Kageyama to see his point.

 _“This is why everyone leaves you!”_ Hinata’s words rang through Kageyama’s head, his glazed-eye expression, tears welling up in his vision imprinted on the inside of Kageyama’s eyelids every time he closed his eyes. Hinata must have known what he meant, Kageyama thought, he must have known that the thought of him being what drove everyone away was one of the things that scared him more than anything else. There was no way Hinata didn’t know that Kageyama was terrified of losing everyone; that, at this point, he was terrified of losing Hinata, too.

From the moment Hinata had told him that he would hit any set, Kageyama had known that Hinata was the one that his grandfather had meant all those years ago – and as much as it made him recoil at the thought of admitting it, Hinata had helped him through a lot of things; but a horrible question surfaced in Kageyama’s mind.

_Was everything Hinata said a lie?_

Everything he had said, all the things he had promised Kageyama, were they all just empty words? All the encouragement about him being the ‘King’ not mattering and the assurance that he would never be alone. All those words that had promised Kageyama so much, those things that had built up his confidence to a point where he was truly happy – was it all a lie?

Did he ever really mean it when he said they would be invincible?

Hinata had been the one to build the bridge that crossed the chasm which had separated Kageyama from his team since middle school, the one to hold out a hand and tell him he would be alright. Hinata was his light at the end of the dark tunnel that had been surrounding him for months. If what Hinata said was a lie, could anything else be the truth? If even Hinata didn’t want him on the team, there was nothing to say that anyone else did.

If that was the truth, he had never been more alone.

“Kageyama-kun?” Yachi called from the doorway, watching the setter through a concerned gaze that she reserved only for the volleyball team – the same kind of motherly gaze that Kageyama had related to Suga in his first year.

“Yeah?” Kageyama tossed the broom back into the storage cupboard mindlessly, pulling the keys out of his pocket, awaiting the worst. He knew Hinata was close to Yachi, and Yamaguchi to an extent, too, so he had been expecting one of the two to approach him about Hinata’s absence all week – it was just his luck that Yachi had caught him at the last possible moment.

“Can we talk about Hinata?”

Even though he’d been expecting it, Kageyama felt his breath hitch, his mind drifting to all the ways the conversation could go wrong. Yet, despite that, his expression was indifferent, “Sure”

Yachi waited for Kageyama to finish shutting the gym to start the conversation, leaning against the outside wall of the gym as Kageyama collected his belongings before slowly trudging towards her, hoping to procrastinate the inevitable.

“I remember when Kiyoko first brought me here” Yachi sounded nostalgic when she finally spoke as her and Kageyama walked alongside one another out of the school grounds, “You were all kind of scary” she smiled softly, “Now I know you’re all nice, you’re a lot less scary”

“You say that as if I still am scary” Kageyama raised an eyebrow slightly, internally trying to figure out how her words relate to his spiker.

“To people that don’t know you, you are” Yachi looked at Kageyama in her peripheral vision, “The first years at Date Tech when we faced them last week looked petrified when you were serving” as she spoke, it dawned on Kageyama what she was going to say, even before she said it, “What happened between you and Hinata after that match?”

There it was.

The question hung in the air, heavy and tense, constricting Kageyama’s breathing as he thought about what to say. So maybe someone had seen them arguing outside the gym after the match; he only hoped that it was Yachi herself, rather than Tsukishima or one of the first years. Since he had no clue how much Yachi actually knew, Kageyama didn’t know whether he could lie about it. If she was only working off speculation that they had argued, he could easily avoid having the conversation entirely.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Yachi spoke again, “This seems serious, if you two did argue. Hinata’s not usually the kind of person who avoids people, even if he’s argued with them. It’s like when you two fought in first year, when Tanaka-Senpai had to break the fight up – he didn’t miss practise, even then”

It was Yachi bringing up that fight that brought Kageyama to stop, his mouth gaping open slightly and his feet gluing to the ground as he looked at her in confusion, “You remember that?” he asked stupidly; because, obviously she did.

“Of course,” her tone turned a lot softer and a little sadder, her gaze a perfect match, “That was the first time I’d seen Hinata that upset”

Kageyama felt like he’d been hit. He strained to remember everything that had happened that day, considering how long ago it had happened – but he was sure that he hadn’t seen Hinata upset. He stared at the ground as he tried to remember everything that had happened after their fight; and he remembered seeing Yachi and Hinata walking off the school grounds together.

“He was upset?” Kageyama asked finally, after a few minutes of suffocating silence.

He’d been annoyed, more than anything, after that argument, if he remembered correctly. It had felt like Hinata was trying to tell him all his efforts weren’t good enough, felt like Hinata was trying to ruin the balance of the team. But sadness? He had barely been sad about it, if he had it was only slightly, because he had argued with Hinata before, and it was always destined to happen again. His main emotion had been anger.

Yachi thought for a moment, before turning her gaze directly onto Kageyama, “Actually, it might have been the first time I saw him cry”

Kageyama’s breathing stopped momentarily, his mind overworking to try and take in all the information that he was receiving in such a short amount of time. He thought he knew Hinata, he thought he knew him well, even back then, but apparently he’d been wrong in many ways.

When Kageyama didn’t speak, Yachi continued “I sort of remember what happened that day. Was it something similar to what happened last week?” Kageyama nodded, Yachi’s expression falling further, “Was it really that bad?”

 _Yes_ , Kageyama thought.

He wondered how he would ever be able to say to Hinata that he didn’t mean what he’d said when he had told him _“You’ll never be good enough for me”,_ and he wondered if Hinata could ever trust him again when he had spoken words to maim, knowing that, though they were untrue, they were the right words to hurt him.

 _“After all the training you’ve done, you’re still the same player that could never live up to what’s said about him”_ Kageyama had said _, “No matter how much work you do, you’ll never be good enough to play with me as an equal”_ he had lied, staring Hinata in the eye and gaining satisfaction from the tears that had welled up in Hinata’s gaze. Kageyama had looked into the eyes of the person he trusted most and torn him apart.

And, he didn’t deserve Hinata’s forgiveness, even if the other was willing to give it.

Kageyama thought about how what Hinata had said was true. He was the reason everyone left. He was egotistical and cruel; he expected the best from others without ever giving his best to them. He was everything that he feared, and everything that he had always tried so hard not to be.

 _“You’re the reason this team has never gotten far”_ Hinata had said, and it was true. He was unable to place his trust firmly in a team, and that was the reason that it always crumbled. Despite his best efforts, he never trusts a team anywhere asides from on the court – despite his best efforts, he always manages to destroy every team that he reigns. If he had only trusted his teammates, they might have done better. Back in first year, during their second, or now.

If only he had done more.

If only he had been better.

“I’m going to go” Kageyama decided, starting to walk past Yachi but stopping when he saw that Yachi was looking at him with determination mixed with the sadness in her expression, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, holding him in place.

“’He was a partner’, was what Hinata said to me that day” Yachi said, gazing up at Kageyama, “Is that not true anymore?”

There was no telling whether or not they were partners anymore, and that might be what scared Kageyama the most.

He was watching an important part of his life slip away, and he feared that Hinata may be too far out of his reach. Somewhere in his mind he considered finding Hinata and telling him he hadn’t meant it. He wondered if he would worsen the damage with the truth – by telling Hinata that he hadn’t meant what he said, by telling Hinata that he was terrified of the thought of the team being ruined, of the thought of losing Hinata as a partner and as a friend.

He had never even really told Hinata that he considered them friends, but he hoped that Hinata knew that they were. He hoped that Hinata knew how much he had changed Kageyama, and how much Kageyama was better off because of those changes. He hoped that Hinata knew that Kageyama had been waiting for someone like him to come along and change his life. He hoped so many things, in that moment, and he wondered if he would have ever thought something like that when he was still a first year who didn’t really know how to properly handle emotions through words, rather than actions.

He hoped so many things that he knew might never come true; all because of that one argument.

He wondered what it was that broke Hinata the most, and if he might ever be able to fix what he did. Truthfully, Kageyama knew that he had caused damage that he might never be able to repair.

Kageyama didn’t meet her gaze, “Partners? No, probably not”

It hurt to think that Hinata had considered him to be so important, even back then, yet Kageyama had hurt him so bad that he would stop doing the thing he loved most in the world for an entire week. Somewhere inside of him, Kageyama hoped that Hinata would just come back and have forgotten what was said; that everything would go back to normal and they could go back to the way they were.

Go back, so that Kageyama could consider them partners, too.

Yachi looked upset, and Kageyama couldn’t say he felt much different – but he was never one for consoling, so he pulled his arm from Yachi’s grip and left her in the middle of the street with tears in her eyes and a heartbroken expression.

Kageyama walked for a while, that night. His destination was unclear, and he found his feet walking the familiar path towards Hinata’s neighbourhood more than once, but he stopped himself each time. He didn’t have the courage to tell Hinata the truth, at least not that night, and he wouldn’t even have known the right words to say. He hoped that Hinata would be back to school the following week, and even if they didn’t sort it out, maybe they could still play together.

He hoped that Hinata wouldn’t ask to do drills with their first-year setter, he hoped that Hinata would come back to him, as he had once promised he always would.

Kageyama walked until his legs ached and his breathing turned erratic and he had to force himself to go home, not collapse where he stood. He walked until his mind was blurry and he didn’t have enough energy to think about Hinata, and the things they had both said, and the words that might not have been true – and the partner he never realised he had.

_Together, Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shoyo had built a kingdom – and together, they had torn it to pieces._


	7. together once more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> on a whim, they decided to play together once more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is trash

Everything had changed. The chemistry they had once held seemed to have dissipated into the air surrounding them. Every toss seemed to fall too short, every spike seemed to fly so far out of reach.

Apart, they were fire. Strong and vibrant; they didn’t need to rely on the relationships they had with their teammates, all they needed was a volleyball and their own skill. Yes, they had these friendships with their teammates, but it wasn’t something they needed to shine.

In the practise, it was a disaster.

Hinata could easily spike every ball set to him by the other setters, and the other spikers never seemed to fail Kageyama in the ways that Hinata was. They thrived without the other, breaking free of the restraints that appeared because of the strong familial relationships they had developed with one another. They were shackled to one another, linked by an asphyxiatingly cold and tight curse that would never leave them.

When they walked onto the court for the match, surrounded by fans of teams from around the globe that were participating in this match with players from around the world – everything was different to the last time they had walked onto the court together.

They weren’t partners. They had nothing left. They were never going to be able to get back whatever it was that had once made them the greatest team. They had lost. Truly, utterly and unequivocally, they were both losers in this cruel game, that is life.

They would never be invincible again.

Yet, when they got onto the court for the game, it didn’t feel any different. Standing next to one another, looking across at the opposing team, nothing felt as though it had changed.

Because, maybe nothing had.

Maybe they were both trying so hard to make things the same as they once were, they were both trying so hard, that they were the cause of their own failures. Nothing had changed between them. They were what had changed. For the first time, they were both too caught up in making sure they played how they once had, that they were forgetting what it really was to play volleyball.

It’s a sport about teamwork – about connection. Whether it be a newfound bond, or even an old one, connecting is all that mattered.

Everything seemed to fall into place. A melody finding its tune, or a waterfall flowing into a sparkling blue river. All at once, everything clicked.

“Kageyama!”

Just as he once had, Kageyama instinctively responded to Hinata’s voice and motion, instead of that of the team surrounding him – and the toss was sent.

So perfect. So accurate, and fluid that he felt as though he could cry. He set without the overwhelming thought of doing something wrong. He set without the feeling that was slowly tearing him apart, without the feeling that he was no longer good enough for Hinata – that Hinata had moved onto things better than him.

It was so, so perfect.

Hinata felt the smile breaking his stoic expression. He felt the sting of the ball against his palm, sent precisely where he had aimed for it to be. He felt his heart beating wildly in his chest, his blood pumping through his veins. He felt, once again, like he was where he was meant to be.

Just like he had done, once upon a time.


	8. alone?

Darkness overwhelmed his senses. A chasm fell beneath him, the echo of his erratic breaths running the expanse of land surrounding him. He tentatively reached a hand out towards the beyond, stretching out as far as he could without moving his feet; terrified of what might happen if he moved from the spot he stood rooted in. Skin a harsh contrast to the emptiness surrounding, he let out a short breath, startled that he could see himself, despite the lack of light, causing him to pull his hand towards his chest, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt.

His entire body trembled, fear curling in the pit of his stomach, bile burning his throat as he searched for a way out of the nihility he was trapped within. He cried out for help, just as he always did, his voice went unheard, not a single sound escaping his lips; no matter how much he tore his throat apart, screaming for help; no matter how much he cried, pleading for release.

Nothing.

His mind searched for an answer, a reason as to why he was being held prisoner in this empty place. But he found none. No reason for his entrapment, no reason for his isolation in this dim place. That was, until the gentle trill of voices met his ears. A gentle hymn of voices far away, entrancing him, pulling him closer.

Enchanting, really. A soft hum can encapsulate a person with such ease, a gentle voice can turn even the coldest of people kind. A single word can make a person’s blood run cold.

That melodic harmony twisted, into a single chant. That word repeated again and again, unfaltering and harsh, to the beat of an invisible drum. Drilling itself into his mind, driving him to insanity within moments.

Truly a senseless concept, that such a word could bring him such agony. That the simple word ‘King’ could bring his heart to contract, his eyes to grow unfocused, his legs to grow weak. That the simple word ‘King’ could unravel the careful barrier that Kageyama Tobio had built around himself. What an impractical idea, to think that he could lose his mind over such a simple, meaningless word.

  
But that word was everything he wished not to be. It was a reminder of everything he was. A reminder of all he would ever be.

Tobio knew, and had known for longer than he even realised, that he had only himself to blame for everything he has done. All the pain he has caused; every single insignificant, terrible, little thing he had ever done.

What hurt so much about the word was that it was true. He had come to terms with that, somewhere inside himself. He had come to terms with the inevitable fact that all he would ever grow to be was an egotistical, arrogant, tyrannical King. He was the thing he hated the most. He was the thing that he tried so hard not to be.

The loathing he held for himself was something unmatched by anything else in the world.

He was undeserving of everything good that he had. His team deserved someone better than him, and he knew it more than anyone else. He felt tears brim his eyes as he recalled these heart-wrenching facts. As he remembered that his new team, this wonderful group of people that he wished to fight alongside forever, would never be able to see past the terrible things he had done.

Finally, his legs gave in, and he fell backwards into the abyss.

Falling. Endlessly, he would be trapped in that moment, his mind forcing him to relive all the torturous things he has said to others, forcing him to remember the pained expressions that he alone caused.

  
He closed his eyes, resting his head back and accepting his fate. He knew it would end this way, he always had. He knew that he would be a prisoner to his own actions eventually, and, forever, he would be ensnared by the mortifying, crushing knowledge that he wasn’t good enough for anyone that he had cared about.

Not his family.

Not his team.

No one. He had no one.

“Kageyama!”

A voice. He wrenched his eyes open, looking as far into the darkness as he possibly could, straining his eyes beyond the vacuity before him. A pinprick. Fluttering in the distance above, a little light sparkled, beautifully bright, against the pitch-black canvas surrounding it.

“He fell over!” the same voice shouted, now awfully close to Kageyama’s ear, forcing him to jolt awake. His eyes snapped open, squinted against the sunshine filtering into the room. Looking around, he scrambled to his feet, realising that he had been leaning against Hinata’s shoulder.

“What were you doing, dumbass!” Kageyama’s voice was louder than intended, but he didn’t bother to apologise, as Hinata already jumped into an explanation.

“I came in to wake you up for practice, but you were stood up and mumbling in your sleep, so I came over to try and hear what you were saying, and you fell on me!” Hinata made a face, “You’re an idiot”

  
Kageyama just gaped, mouth opening and closing but with no words forming. Hazy pictures were forming in his mind, his brain piecing together the nightmare he had experienced, and he was slowly remembering the torture that he had been experiencing. The never-ending abyss that had captured him in its web. That cold, deadly feeling of suffocation. That heart-crushing, shattering feeling of true and utter abandonment.

But he hadn’t been abandoned.

He wasn’t alone, because he was faced with this dumbass that was seemingly never destined to leave his side. This annoying, overly energetic spiker that shared his obsession with becoming the best player he could be. This teammate that he didn’t want, but taught him so many things, without even trying. Who encouraged him and helped him and stood by his side, no matter what.

  
The person his grandfather had promised him he would one day find.

“You look like a fish”

“Shut up, dumbass” Kageyama narrowed his eyes at Hinata, who scrunched his face up in distaste.

Hinata jumped up, stifling a small yawn behind his hand, “Race you to breakfast”

“I woke up about two minutes ago” Kageyama huffed, “Race yourself”

“Just because you know you’ll lose” Hinata broke into a sprint, his laughter trailing behind him as he darted towards the kitchen with that same spark in his eyes that he always held. And, for once, Kageyama didn’t mind losing the race.

For once, he was content with the knowledge that he wasn’t, and seemingly never would end up truly, wholly and unequivocally alone.


End file.
